VOLUME ONE MOST LOVE STORIES HAVE ONE BEGINNING AND ONE ENDING. THIS LOVE STORY HAS MANY. From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julie Ann Walker comes an epic story about sacrifice, friendship, and the awe-inspiring power of love. Maggie: Ten years ago, Cash Armstrong stole my heart. Then he promptly joined the army—dragging my best friend with him—and left me crying on the front porch in a red sequined prom dress. Now he's back. They're both back. Cash, the one who still has my heart. And Luc, the one who saved my life. Cash: How do you know if you’re at the end of the beginning or the beginning of the end? That's what I've been trying to figure out since a traumatic brain injury made me "unfit to serve." I'm back in New Orleans, and picking up the shattered pieces of my past means I must confront where my life's journey began... and where it all might end. Luc: Long ago, Maggie May was mine. Not mine in the way you might think. She was mine because she was my only friend. Then Cash came along and we became brothers by something stronger than blood. We became brothers by choice. When tragedy struck, I was forced to make a decision that changed all our lives. I thought, after ten years, it was safe to come back home. I was wrong...
Julie Ann Walker has a new trilogy coming out July 1, 2019. It’s really intriguing in that it looks like 3 “volumes” each from a different character’s perspective and I don’t think I’ve seen anything like that before. I’ll update you guys when I find out more. In the mean time, here’s an excerpt that seems like these books might kick us in the feels. Enjoy!
In Moonlight and Memories
I smile and spread my hands. “Can you blame him? He didn’t know me from Adam, and you were so young and fresh, with this sparkly, shiny way about you. He was a moth drawn to your light. We both were.”
She swallows and looks away. “I never felt sparkly or shiny. I felt… lost. And alone. And so scared of everything, especially myself.”
“Not all that glitters is gold, Maggie May. Sadness can have a sheen to it too,” I tell her. “Loneliness can have a certain luster.”
A puff of air escapes her. “Pretty words.”
There are a million questions I want to ask her. Starting with, Did you truly mean what you said at the party? But the chasm between what I want to ask and all the complications and repercussions of the answer seems impossible to cross.
Eventually, she asks, “Why didn’t you tell me back then how you felt?”
I shrug. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
She shakes her head. “But how do you know that?”
“‘Cause I was there, remember? I saw your face when you looked at him for the first time. In that moment, it was all over for me. So I decided not to fight a losing battle. I decided to accept what you were willing to give.”
She clutches her locket in her fist. After a while, she admits quietly, “I think I needed someone like him. Someone not from around here. Someone who hadn’t suffered the terror and trauma of Katrina. Someone I could forget with. But now? Now I think he’s the opposite of what I need.”
I wish I could think of something profound to say, but that pressure in my chest from earlier is growing, making it impossible to breathe, much less speak. It’s hope. Voluminous, ever-expanding hope.
I feel so damned guilty for it.
“He still loves you,” I remind her. But maybe I’m reminding myself.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t want me.”
I shake my head. “How can you be sure? He might just be saying that ’cause—”
She stops me with a raised hand. “I’m sure.” There’s a certainty in her voice I haven’t heard before. “And the truth is, it doesn’t matter if he does or doesn’t want me, because I think I’ve stopped wanting him.”
“You don’t mean that,” I scoff.
“Don’t I?” She searches my eyes. When she sighs, it sounds like letting go. “When I was young, I didn’t understand that Cash’s brand of love can be self-serving and careless. I was blinded by his confidence and his life-force. But I can see things clearly now. You’ve helped me see things clearly.”
My chin jerks back. “What did I do?”
“You’ve been you.”
I shake my head, not understanding.
“When I think back on it, you’ve always been my one true thing.”